Planning ahead

Despite the illnesses, we had a really outstanding couple of weeks here doing the back to school thing. We're easing into it, and magically, after hitting a road bump or two, things are falling right into place.

One of the best things I did was to borrow Aleisha's fantastic weekly schedule visual. Have you seen hers? I love the idea that the kid(s) help create it, thereby owning it to an extent. And displaying it helps keep everyone on track. --I borrowed from it liberally, because she has things laid out so well.

I also borrowed some organizational finesse from Spinneretta, of The Jacobite Rose. She's got the best planner idea I've seen yet! And using downloads from Spinneretta herself and Donna Young, I've now got a working planner. Emphasis on working. Yes, I'm actually able to plan stuff, keep it in one place, and follow through. I've added a handwritten sheet for Goals (both emotional and educational) for my girls, and I'm good to go. I'm trying to write in pencil on those weekly sheets, so that I can erase anything we don't get done, and then move the item to the next day. What I'm left with is a record of what has actually happened, rather than what I intended to happen. I'm really loving it, and I think the nice thing about the planner is that it's something tangible that I can look at the night before and see what I need to prepare/do/think about in order to be fully present the next day.

I usually get so caught up in my own needs after my three kids go to bed that I forget to think about tomorrow. I get so bent on trying to get that dose of time for myself, no matter how minuscule it may be some nights, that I find myself often walking into the next day ill-prepared.

I've been reading such provoking books lately, perhaps the most so is Eugene Schwartz's lectures Rhythms and Turning Points in the Life of the Child. In the first lecture he says such incredibly smart things that, had I been underlining, the book would have looked ridiculous when I was through. One of those incredible things he says is parallel to something we learned with our exploration of Rosh Hashana-- that the new day starts at sundown. He says if you prepare for the lesson the night before, if you think about/meditate on the children in your care, you then take all of that with you into your sleep where you meet in spirit form with the children, have a "cosmic main lesson," and receive guidance, not only from higher spirits but from the children as well.

I've heard this sort of stuff many times over the years, and while I believe in this spirit world he refers to, it has been awhile since I really made an ongoing, conscious effort to sit with the lessons and my thoughts at night. It's so easy to slide into the place of meeting my own immediate needs, rather than looking ahead to tomorrow. But Schwartz reminds me that the proof is in the pudding, so to speak. That this nightly preparation has such measurable effects, that it works and can be proven.

He says:

"Think of a main lesson that went especially well, one that you can look back on... you could look back on it and not only say, "Well, that was good. They really learned something" but you feel your inner being is somewhat transformed. You feel as though you and the children were speaking together, your hearts were beating as one, you were breathing as one. Something happened. Then look back on it and I'm certain that you will find two things occurred. One is that some point you practically threw your main lesson plan out the window and started to teach something rather different. It was still in that subject but quite changed and metamorphosed from what you imagined. And most likely the reason you did it that way was because a child asked a question... it was as though they were feeding you what you needed to say. It was coming out of their being and as they heard you speak what was on their soul, they smiled and said, "Ah" or grew more and more enthusiastic."

My inner being transformed? Our hearts beating as one? Breathing as one?

All this for planning ahead? Count me in!

Gratitude and more

I'm coming up for air after several days of small children with stomach flu. I could go on to regale you with horror stories involving toddlers and diarrhea, but I fear I've already said too much.

During those dark days, I was also regaled with the kindest words from so many of you-- in the comments, on your blogs, in emails... and I just wanted to tell you all from the bottom of my heart that I am deeply and truly touched. Thank you. :-)

A few people have asked me now if I would share more of our homeschooling stories, or even to write up some kind of homeschooling book. I am so flattered and humbled by that request. I will definitely try to share more of our lessons, both past and present. The idea of being able to share and exchange ideas with other like-minded homeschoolers was the sole inspiration for this blog. I felt like I was finding so much inspiration out there--on lists and on the now defunct Wonder Homeschool site-- that I wanted to give something back.

To me, homeschooling my children starts with the heart. Not only does my heart have to be in the right place, my stories and lessons and entire approach have to meet my children on a level that will engage their hearts first and foremost. To do that, the lessons have to come from my heart. And that, folks, isn't something that presently feels right to put a price on. At least to me, though I don't expect everyone to share my Dobbleresque values.

I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.
--Lloyd Dobbler (John Cusack) from Say Anything

Homeschooling is big business. People are marketing all kinds of curriculum and materials and their own blogs, even, as if every word held monetary value. It worries me that something originating from one's heart has the potential to spiral into something completely different when you attach a price tag to it. It doesn't always happen this way, but I've been around long enough to witness the Ahrimanic forces take root even with Waldorf homeschooling.

But I'm flattered by the asking, really, and I'll do my best to keep sharing what we come up with over here-- whether it's original stuff or regurgitated and/or morphed standard Waldorf fare. And I hope you all will do the same, so we can grow together on this journey. It's a tough path we've chosen-- to educate our children in such an expressive, artistic, reverential way. To give of ourselves so much! By sharing freely, we can lighten the load for one another.

And for those of you who doubt your own abilities, Barbara Dewey (the original Waldorf homeschooling guru) said something very powerful at her conference this summer that has stuck with me. Surely she said and modeled a lot of lovely things, but this one bit was particularly key to the whole experience of homeschooling.

She said, and I'm paraphrasing, that there are no Waldorf experts. Even trained and certified Waldorf teachers are not experts; they will never know everything. To do this job you must be an "enthusiastic, creative amateur. We're all always becoming."

Beautiful handmade toys

Spinneretta, of the lovely The Jacobite Rose, has done a wonderful job hosting the Beauty of Toymaking Fair for September.

Go see, and revel in the beauty of handmade toys!

Something wicked this way comes...

I'm not sure what direction the internet is taking, but this weekend I saw some pretty worrisome things. And I'm not sure that I like it.

First up, Google books. Have you been there? Originally I saw a list of Autumnal book links, and went to check them out. Old, lovely books. In their entirety, and available for free download. Well, that's exciting, I thought, since they are obviously way out of print. Well then I went to update my sidebar book list, and went Googling around for a link to the wonderful book by Reg Down that we're reading, The Festival of Stones, and there it was. On Google books!

This book was published in 2005. And it's there. A huge, whopping portion of it. And why? Well, apparently the publisher has given Google the go-ahead to list it online. You can't download it, but there's a heck of a lot of it there. Really! Doesn't that just seem more than a teensy bit wrong to you? I wonder what Reg Down thinks about this. Or if he even knows?! And what's more, I wonder how many other books that are still in print are listed. And I wonder how this affects the authors of said books, because don't they get paid a portion of book sales? Surely it's a very small portion, but a portion nonetheless.

And are people thinking... Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?

Terrible.


Second up, Big Brother Amazon.com. I was clicking through a host of blogs and on more than one occasion I clicked on someone's page and WAH! There was MY name in some little Amazon advertisement box. It said, "Hi Sara..." One of these blogs I had never even been to before. Ever. And it really freaked me out.

So I investigated it a little bit further, and it turns out that those little boxes are part of a program called the Amazon Honor System. People put them on their sites to solicit monetary donations, which are paid directly through your Amazon account. And who doesn't have an Amazon account? It knew my name because I have an account, and the little box recognized me just like Amazon recognizes me when I go to their site. I don't even have to log in... somehow it knows. Which is bad enough, right? But then I realized that Amazon can track me... and my movements on the web, or at least on any page that has an Amazon donations box. It's all a little too big brothery for me.

Amazon said it's not tracking people, at least not for now... there probably aren't enough little donation boxes out there yet to make it worthwhile. But give it a month or a year, and who knows? They may change their minds... Wired magazine had a very convincing article about this.

I don't want to be tracked. I don't want to see my name on websites across the globe. I don't want to see recent books splayed out online. That's what a library is for, am I right? I want to have to get out of my chair, walk a few blocks to the library, search through the shelves, and plop my little card down on the counter. And only then do I want to hear someone say my name... because they know me. As they should, since I come in every week.

I'm constantly amazed by the wonder and horror of the internet. My world is ever growing smaller, and in one sense that's great because I have found such community and friendship online. Inspiration and hope and empathy. It's the price of this double-edged connectedness that I wonder about. How much privacy and personal freedom can I wager? And do I really have a choice?

L'shanah tovah

Last week the kids and I celebrated Rosh Hashana*, the Jewish New Year. We're not Jewish, but it correlated with the school story I'm telling, so I went with it. Originally I was thinking it would be a nice way to include/introduce spiritual customs and rituals that we're not familiar with. You know the drill-- increase cultural literacy: eat the food, speak the language, tell a story. But it turned out to be a much deeper experience than that.

In our school story, our main character Clara had just arrived at her grandmother's house. Upon rising her first morning there, she spied some children from her window. They were hurrying along (to synagogue,) but upon seeing her they called out, "L'shanah tovah"-- wishing her a good year. Of course she wanted to go play with them, but her grandmother told her the kids would be in synagogue most of the day... which left it wide open for a discussion of Rosh Hashana itself, including the 100 notes sounded from the ram's horn, or shofar, during synagogue.

Now, you're a homeschooler and you could potentially use this as a maths lesson-- 100 notes sounded off from a horn, or flute, or what have you. Would that be some sort of blasphemy? I wondered about that. Could one potentially blast those notes and still preserve some sort of religious/cultural respect? We tried, but frankly there's something mildy amusing that happens when you get beyond thirty or forty and then begin to lose count. The point of the notes, it is believed, is that they issue a call to repentance. And depending on how you look at it, laughter itself is a very cleansing activity. On the other, I suppose it gives us something to repent about.

Terrible, I know. But I love the idea of a holiday of repentance. Everyone gets a chance at a clean slate. If you suck, you make amends. And you get ten days to do it. There's a very clear parameter there which is very appealing. I mean, who among us doesn't need to make amends for something?

So we ate of the food, we said the greeting, we pretended the shofar, and then we took a walk at a nearby creek. I handed them each some bread crumbs and told them how in our school story Clara went for a walk with her grandmother on Rosh Hashana. And her grandmother, though not Jewish either, said that sometimes there is a great wisdom in other people's customs. And then she began the practice of casting off her sins, or misdeeds, into the flowing water of the creek. This practice is known as Tashlikh, and the quality of this experience just sent a great hush over us as we walked along and did our own casting off.

I don't know what my kids were thinking about when they were emptying their pockets, surely they don't have many misdeeds at their ages... but me at my age? Goodness. It's good to think about these things-- a mandatory introspection. I really did stop and assess my behavior and attitudes and how it compares to the person I want to be. The parent I want to be. Am I doing my best? Am I living up to my full potential? Why am I falling short of that? What can I do differently?

Yeah, I know. All that in a piece of bread.

There's something about the sound and energy of rushing water that I've always found to be very cleansing. As soon as I read about the practice of Tashlikh, I thought, "those Jewish people are smart!" I mean it! Remember the last time you walked on the beach-- the sound of the water rushing in and receding. It does something to a person. There's some energetic shift, a lightening, that you can't help but feel. I remember as a little girl going up in the Chiricahua mountains and standing near a rushing stream and feeling like I was witnessing some kind of magic happening. I felt so light and free and connected.

It happened again when my dad died three years ago and I was experiencing such a state of complete loss and anguish. His loss was deeply crushing, and the excruciating emotional months that followed his death-- the funeral, the family gatherings, the wading through the material pieces of his life-- completely overwhelmed me. I remember wondering how I would ever overcome these feelings. And then another family member died, and the emotional charge was just unfathomable.

We packed the kids in the car and we drove to the beach, and it was the best thing we could have done. I walked along the water's edge and felt the ache in my heart begin to ease. So we spent a lot of time near flowing water for the next few months... hiking along creeks, canoeing in the river-- they all had that same effect. I don't know if it's a tonal healing, the sound of the water, or if it's something far more encompassing than that. All I know is that I've felt it work.

The practice of "letting go" is known and practiced by many different religions. You've heard people say, "Let go, and let God." Even with Zen and Buddhism, there is this idea that you shouldn't be attached to things, you should let them go. So you meditate to clear your mind, to achieve "nothingness"-- emptying out all that internal chatter, the desires and regrets and what have you, which is the way to enlightment. Enlighten. To make lighter. To ease. To rise.

As the kids and I walked alongside the creek on Rosh Hashana, there was a definite lightening of our pockets as we tossed our bread crumbs into the water. Though it was a truly meaningful experience for me, I wasn't sure if the kids really got the point of it. It's such an inner experience, this holiday of repentance, despite the tangibility of the activity of Taklish-- releasing the the bread into the water. As it turned out, my children surprised me. They were fairly quiet and focused, even after they ran out of bread. They, too, were reluctant to return home again.

Moonshine, my five-year-old, turned to me and with great earnest asked if we could do this again. "Do what, toss bread into the water?" I asked her.

"No," she said. "Celebrate Rosh Hashana. Every year."

Sometimes there is a great wisdom in other people's customs.


*Everything I learned about Rosh Hashana and the Days of Awe I got from Judaism 101-- here and here.

B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y W-O-R-D-S

About a month ago I had a birthday. I'm now fully ensconced in my mid-thirties, if you must know. And it's okay, this birthday stuff. After all, there is cake... and who can turn down a good cake? Plus I get presents! We're not really all that different from our kids, are we? I like presents just as much as they do. And it's even better when the present is actually something you like. And will use.

I'm not usually one to brag, but this year I got the best present ever. And no, I don't mean the shiny earrings, though they were quite nice, too. I'm talking about this lovely thing here:

It looks like a banana, you say? Well, yes. But when you peel it open, it's a whole different kind of thing. It's a game called Bananagrams. This banana holds 144 letter tiles so that you can build your own Scrabbley kind of word set-up. It's genius, actually. Rather than playing off another person's words, you play off your own. The object is to use all your letters first... and in order to do that you can change them and move them around as needed, rather than just adding onto them or leaving them stagnant as you do in Scrabble. It doesn't have to be a winners/losers scenario either... you can play nice. And you can play solo. And you can play several rounds a night for days on end.

I think I just let out my inner-Scrabble-geek.

But ah, well. My family knows me well enough to understand how much fun I would have with this game. And the best part is that they are enjoying it, too. Sunburst can also play along at her own spelling level, and although admittedly they have each taken to giving me a large handicap, it's fun for everyone. And whether she realizes it or not, it's homeschooling, too.

And the cake? It was carrot. And pretty good, too, even if it did nearly singe my hair while I was trying to blow all those flaming candles out. Next year? Fewer candles!

A bit of nature

I've had the worst luck with nature tables over the years. If I have them down low they manage to get destroyed by the babies, toddlers, and cats in my life. If I have them up high, well, they get sorely neglected.

With the onset of Autumn, and tying in with our "new beginnings" theme, I'm trying it out again. Old table, new location. So far it has survived 10 days. I think that's a record in this house.

I still can't believe the leaves are starting to change already!

Beginning anew - fall lessons

It seems to have become Fall weather overnight. The leaves are changing and dropping in our yard, and the mornings are chill. It's amazing. And lovely. And alas, undeniably time for school.

We started up Tuesday morning with a lengthy, fun circle out in the yard around a pile of leaves. Of course this involved jumping into the pile of leaves during our rowdier 'falling down' songs, but truly, it was great fun! During our closing song our three voices blended and rose up so beautifully that I almost cried. Afterwards I hugged them tightly, showered them with kisses, and welcomed them into a new year of school-- into 3rd grade and Kindergarten.*

Sunburst was feeling a bit unsure of what 3rd grade held for her. "Are we still going to do stories?" She asked, longingly.

So it was then I knew we had to jump right in. I started simply, as I drew her (and Moonshine) along into the overarching story for the year. Again, we're back to our school story, The Adventures of Clara, the wise man's daughter. She's off to stay with her Cherokee grandmother and make friends with the neighboring Jewish family. While she's gone, a good friend and her family will take up residence in Clara's home...

I told this part of the story over a picnic lunch at the park, and when we arrived back at our own home, we entered the house with 'new' eyes. If a family was coming to stay in our house, what would they see? What should we clean up?

Barbara Dewey suggested at her conference last month that we get our houses in order before we begin our homeschool year. It's a great idea, but I haven't been able to make much headway with all the things going on. So that's what we did, we cleaned up. Together. And it was fun because it was part of the story.

When we felt satisfied, we went to the table and drafted a letter to the friend who was coming to stay in Clara's house. Sunburst offered up her ideas (play with my toys, feed my cat) and I wrote them up into a proper letter on the chalkboard for her to copy down into her new main lesson book. Moonshine wanted to do something too, so she drew a picture for Clara to leave with her letter.

Then Clara traveled along to her grandmother's house, arriving after sunset on Rosh Hashana. Her first day of the new adventure -- the start of the Jewish New Year.

Seeing that time correlation in the story made me take a deep breath in. I was so worried that I wouldn't be able to make this year work-- to mesh together all the themes and make it exciting and wondrous. Really, it was stressing me out! So I went to sleep and asked for some guidance. I woke up with no answers, but then this story just fell out of my mouth and seemed to click. New beginnings, a perfect theme for the Waldorf 3rd grade year. Creation stories, Old Testament stories (like Noah), farming (planting the seeds), shelters... it's all about beginning anew.

And thus we began. Welcome to our year!


*The grades placement actually means a lot to them. I never figured it would as homeschoolers, but now that they have a street full of public school children to play with, they are paying much more attention to what grade they are in as sort of a rite of passage. It helps them know they are striving along, climbing that ladder to maturity.

Summer's last hurrah!

All the kids on our street have been back in school for three weeks or so, but not us. No sir! We haven't even begun to head in that direction yet. We've been much too busy.

This was our last hurrah of the summer. Camping, canoing, grandparents, miniature golf, knitting, and goose poop? Hmm, I guess you had to be there.

Sunburst spent most of her time manning the canoe solo-- totally her choice. This was a first for her, and she's a fine boatman, er boatperson.





Moonshine, by contrast, was all about the fishing. She spent many, many hours happily catching all manner of seaweed. And bringing them to me, each and every time. It was great... until she caught her sister.





Kitty Bill came down with a cantankerous cold but still managed to go out on the canoe, chase geese, and play a dangerous 18 holes of mini-golf.





And Einstein? Me? We sat around enjoying the view and doing some really important stuff. Like nothing. It was a nice way to end a long, hot, and busy summer.

Nature always wins

Just when you think the bugs can't get any crazier, nature steps it up a notch.

This Hickory Horned Devil had all our kids entranced at our last homeschool park day meet-up. First of all, let me say HUGE caterpillar. Enormous! It's the size of a large hot dog. It comes with all the bells and whistles-- large suctiony feet, horns a'plenty, and that alienesque aqua-blue body hue just can't be beat. Later on it will metamorphose into a Royal or Regal Moth. Big caterpillar. Big moth.

Nature. Whew!

**Big thanks to my friend E. for actually having a camera along and letting me share this picture with you.**

Happily Ever After

It's a big day at our house. Einstein and I are celebrating our TENTH wedding anniversary. Complete with sick kids and their many spewing orifices.

But it's the thought that counts, right?


Go ahead and Simpsonize yourself. You know you want to!

I did it!

I finally finished my first lace knitting.

Finishing this sucker was a big homeschooling moment at my house. A major moment!

I know, I know, some of you are a bit confused as how something the homeschooling mom creates in her own free time has anything to do with homeschooling, especially in a major way. But it's true. It does. And I'll try to sum it up quickly before the next child comes out of bed complaining of thirst, or growing pains, or noises outside. Are you ready?

• I taught myself how to do something completely new. And the children watched.
• I struggled. For months and months, really, while they watched. They saw me start, fail, rip out all my stitches, and start again. They saw me work, really work at something until I mastered it. To completion. Without giving up. WIthout whining, sulking, or throwing things. Honest.
  

It was a complete exercise in developing my own will forces. Perseverance. And who knows how much of that rubs off on them. How much of that do they breathe in, just from being here and watching?

If you listen to David Albert of unschooling infamy, one of the best things you can do for your children is to, "Learn something new yourself." Especially if you have a child with perfectionistic tendencies like my Moonshine.

In Homeschooling and the Voyage of Self-Discovery, Albert says that by learning something new yourself:

"Your empathy with, and humility around, your children will increase exponentially. You'll teach them through example that mistakes are part of the learning process... Just as importantly, your kids will see that learning something new always begins with some level of discomfort, and that's really okay. They will watch you progress and come to understand that mastery of any subject matter-- be it mathematics, crocheting, baseball, or singing-- and self-mastery only come by developing sound learning habits and putting in the requisite time, energy, and effort. And then by doing so, self-confidence grows. And what is self-confidence, really, but the feeling that one is prepared to tackle a future replete with exciting new adventures!"

So here she is, my exciting adventure-- the Adamas Lace shawl, in all her glorious detail. Sunburst, in typical fashion, has been begging to start her own lace shawl. The thought leaves me breathless... I mean, it's a load of knitting! It's all about precision and attention to detail and slippery needles. Is an 8 1/2 year-old really ready for that?

I've been hemming and hawing about it, kind of wavering on the fence. But at the Waldorf homeschooling conference this weekend I got the go ahead from Barbara Dewey to let Sunburst go for it. It's not like she hasn't already knit socks on 4-needles (albeit baby socks) and a two-color hat. Sunburst plainly admitted to me that it might take her a year, or even two, to knit a lace shawl to completion. And she was completely comfortable with that. Undaunted.



To read more of my thoughts (and some great quotes) on perfectionism and homeschooling, GO HERE.

Everyday Entomology

Did you know there is a mama spider that hangs out and mothers her spiderlings?

We've been spending an awful lot of time this summer out in the yard and garden hanging out with the bugs. It's not something we've been doing on purpose, mind you. It's just that they catch our attention and we get sucked in.

In June we sighted this spider family in the vegetable garden. They moved right into the pepper plant and set up housekeeping, or more precisely, baby spider keeping. Just when I thought I understood the habits of spiders, this was more proof that nature will always keep me guessing.

The kids enjoyed watching this Nursery web spider and blowing on the babies in the nursery. Sunburst figured out that if you blow on them they scatter a bit. But they always returned to center, forming an amazing kind of spidery ball.






In other bug news, Einstein came back from a conference a few weeks ago and discovered that in his absence a chrysalis had attached to his bicycle tire. We stuck it in a jar and brought it inside.



And then we watched. And waited. And watched. And waited. And then completely forgot about it.

Until...



Suddenly there was a Monarch butterfly. Right there. In the middle of the breakfast table. We missed the emergence entirely, but spent a while with it-- cooing and oohing and ahhing, and watching it pump blood into its wings.



And then it was off...

Made at home

I was going to title this post "Not made in China" but then I read this. And I felt bad. Nonetheless, we're all paying a bit more attention these days. And we should, shouldn't we?

Last month Sunburst helped me sew up this little lovely book as airplane fodder for Kitty Bill. He seemed to enjoy it almost as much as we enjoyed making it. The making is always the best part.

Going to California

We went. We saw. And whew! We're back!

Sometime in July ( I swear the days of this entire month seem to have completely run together) we took a family excursion to California to visit my mom and younger siblings. It was the first time we've seen most of them in four years. You can talk to people every week or so over a four year span and still it's like a smack in the head when you see them in person. Four years is a LONG time!

My younger siblings were born when I was a teenager myself, and I can still remember their babyhoods. Since my last visit they went from homeschooled teens and tweens to college kids, reeking of hormones and hipness. Swords, eyeliner and tattoos. Man, do I feel old!

But going to Grandma's was something akin to Disneyland for my kids. Grandma lives out in the country somewhere between San Francisco and Sacramento. She's surrounded by fields of cattle, horses, and alfalfa. The trees are teeming with crows, and the ground is teeming with ground squirrels, but that's another story. Grandma herself has dogs, cats, parrots, rabbits, and a rooster. Just down the road are more horses, baby cows, sheep and llamas. Oh, and the nicest cowboy we have ever met that has the biggest soft spot for little girls who love horses, especially Sunburst.

Cowboy J had Sunburst atop her first and only pony when she was three or four, for a ride around the house. It wasn't much, but she has clung to that memory ever since. Now that she's eight, and mad about horses, she thought it was high time that she do it again. And then some!

Sunburst spent her entire vacation down the road with Cowboy J. He stopped by every day to collect Sunburst in his pick-up truck, and off she went with him having the grandest adventures of her young life: playing with a five-day-old baby horse, washing, brushing, saddling, feeding, and yes riding a horse. Cowboy J. dubbed her the "child of a million questions," and he patiently tried to answer every one. She rode just about every day, and on the last day she convinced the horse to trot and canter, which was a bit scarier for mom and dad than we had anticipated. It wasn't enough for Sunburst to just ride, she had to stick around afterwards and do all the horse care and make sure everyone was put away and fed for the night before she would come in for dinner. Whenever we showed up to bring her home, she shooed us away. "It's okay, Cowboy J. can bring me over for dinner."

Here's Sunburst out in the field doing her "The Girl Who Loved Horses" thing:

And every night she came in reeking of horses and cows and grinning madly. And it tickled her even more that Cowboy J. stayed for dinner each night. Sunburst repaid his kindness by making him a peach cobbler, with peaches picked from a tree in his yard. He reciprocated by giving her a horseshoe off the horse she had been riding. She nailed it to the wall next to her bed as soon as we got home.

Moonshine got to ride a horse, too, but it wasn't the same kind of experience. It wasn't about living and breathing the horse energy, it was simply a ride or two. Though Moonshine fought for a seat next to Cowboy J. at the dinner table, she also loved running through the newly cut fields and messing around with dress-up clothes held over from my sisters' childhoods. Moonshine played dress-up, talked art with the 93-year-old artist that lives at Grandma's house, got to watch movie commentary (crazy how she REALLY LOVES this sort of thing) and got into Grandma's massive collection of matryoshka dolls and sated herself for hours of quiet play.

Kitty Bill did NOT ride a live horse, but he did pet one. His joy of joys was the farm equipment over at Cowboy J's. I didn't know that Kitty Bill can tell a tractor from a backhoe from a car, but apparently he has some inner connection to John Deere that I don't know about.

Einstein had a great time, too. He brought his bagpipes along and played his heart out in the wide open spaces. He even got to joust a bit with my sister Junebug. Nothing like sword play in the driveway, I always say, to kick a vacation into high gear. Since none of us had ever seen Einstein or Junebug fence, this was a real treat for everyone.

And me... do you remember me saying that my younger sibs were homeschooled? My mom thought this visit was a perfect time to clean off her bookshelves and pass on some really great homeschooling and literature resources. I left with 200 pounds of books... need I say more?

Summer math

Sunburst announced a math problem at breakfast this morning. She needed to know what one year divided by 7 was. She started counting it out with her Organic Rice Crispies and she discovered many things, but not the answer to her query.

It turns out what she really wanted to know was when her newest little friend, Bart, would be turning one. In horse years.

Another fine unschooling moment.

Big Summer Plans

While my internet connection was out over the last two weeks, I seemed to have some extra time on my hands. Funny business, this internet stuff. BUT it did give me a chance to work on that internal list of goals I had for the summer. That would be THIS summer. The one that is suddenly halfway behind us. Already.

I took that internal list and externalized it. Nothing like the added pressure of exposure to kick yourself into high-gear. And this is no petty list, mind you. I think I'll need to clone myself several times over to get to everything in any sort of reasonable time frame.





1. Three years ago I proclaimed that I wanted to learn to play the bagpipes. Granted, it was at my father's funeral and I was openly grieving, but really, I meant it. So I grieved for a while, and then I got pregnant, had my third baby, and moved... and I never quite got around to it. It's high time, don't you think?

Einstein actually proclaimed his desire to learn this at the same time as me, and now he has business cards and the whole get-up. Now, I don't really expect to get to that level of playing... I mean, I'm no Einstein. But he bought me a pretty wood chanter a year or so ago, and I aim to make good use of it.




2. The Adamas Shawl. I will conquer you! I know it has been almost a whole year, and to my credit you ARE my first lace knitting piece... One row a day, and I should have you finished off by the end of August. (Note to self: Lace knitting + Busy Toddler = Bad idea.)





3. I've been reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, et. al. Mixed reactions about the book itself, but it has done one thing... it made me realize that I've got to do more than this. This being my piddly little makeshift garden. In my driveway, no less, because that's where the sun is, folks. Now, I do pretty well with the containers I have here... but reading Kingsolver's book has made me pine for gardens gone by. For what I used to have and do and be before our move to the Midwest.

This is the garden space I gave up when we moved here:



Einstein and I put this in ourselves with horse panel, pine needles, and a load of soil we had dumped onto our driveway. Four long and lovely rows of vegetables with a companion herb and flower plot. And a huge fig tree. Oh, how we used to eat!

Pining away for the past is NEVER a good thing. But I can do more than my measly little driveway plot. Surely I can fit a few more containers in there somewhere before I run out of room to back out my car. And I'm going to build a couple of cold frames to plug on top of these large containers when the weather cools down. There's nothing like fresh garden greens when the ground is still covered in snow. Oh, and maybe build a small greenhouse for the backyard. When the leaves fall off we'll get our sunshine back.





4. Quilting. I haven't sewn a quilt in years, but the girls have been asking for a new bedspread and we have all these lovely embroidered squares that have no home. Sunburst and I picked up some thrift curtains and sheets that we will recycle into a slap-together quilt. Even Moonshine has been embroidering some squares for it (see the princess above.) So this is a group project. Go us!

Even Einstein has gotten bit by the quilting bug... I gave him a little lesson on the sewing machine and after buying a load of fabric (enough for three quilts!) at the fabric store he went to town cutting and piecing and ironing like a madman. He's actually doing an outstanding job of it... but we'll talk about that later.




5. We have a "Peeler" in our midst. He has been spotted and redirected and scolded, but his need to peel is unrelenting. The Peeler must be stopped.

I have a lot of sanding and painting to do throughout the house... not the most exciting job, but there you have it.



6. Plan third grade. Visit relatives in California. Have house guests. Host a barbecue. Clean my office. Oh, and blog! Ha.

Got any big plans to finish out your summer? Time's a wastin'.

Grade Three Resources

** Updated September 2012 **

Waldorf Grade Three Resources

Essential Grade 3 (options for Old Testament, gardening/farming, Native American, measurement)
And There Was Light - Streit (Grade 3)*
Journey to the Promised Land - Streit (Grade 3)*
We Will Build a Temple - Streit (Grade 3 or 4)*

Teaching Practical Activities - Wilkinson (Grade 3)
Hütten von Kindern selbst gebaut - Espinassous (Grade 3 +)*
Wir bauen jetzt ein Haus - Wolk-Gerche (Grade 3 +)*
People at Work: The Builder - Ladybird book (English housebuilding/bricks) - (Grade 3)*
My Side of the Mountain - George (Grade 3+)*
On the Far Side of the Mountain - George (Grade 3+)

Soul Development Through Handwriting - Crebbin (Grades 3 or 4)
Sequoyah: The Cherokee Man Who Gave His People Writing - Silbert (Grade 3)

In the Three Sister's Garden - Dennee (Grade 3)
Native American Gardening: Stories, Projects and Recipes for Families - Caduto/Bruchac (Grade 3)*
Keepers of the Earth: Native American Stories, Activities for Children - Caduto/Bruchac (Grade 3)
Indian Why Stories (Grade 2 or Grade 3)
Farmer Boy - Ingalls
Waldorf 3rd Grade Farming Block- Heirloom Seasons (Grade 3)**

Poems and Rhymes/Grammar
A Journey Through Time in Verse and Rhyme (Grades 1-8)*
Waldorf Book of Poetry (Grades 1-8)
An English Manual - Harrer (Grades 2-8)*
Mad Libs (Grades 3+)*

Mathematics
Making Math Meaningful - York (Grades 1-5)*
Math Lessons for Elementary Grades (Grades 1-5)*
The Man Who Counted - Tahan (Grades 3 +)
Childcraft: Mathemagic (measurement section) - (Grade 3)*

Music
Waldorf Teacher's Companion to the Pentatonic Flute (Grade 2 +)
Folksongs for the Pentatonic Flute - Miles (Grade 3 +)
One for the Golden Sun: pentatonic songs (Grades 2 +)
Clump-a-Dump- and Snickle-Snack (Grades 2 +)
Music Through the Grades - Barnes (Grades 1-8)
Sing A Song of Seasons - Naturally You Can Sing
Beginning recorder books

Art Resources
Painting and Drawing in Waldorf Schools - Wildgruber (Grades 1-8)*
Elements of Grade 3 (main lesson book images) - Millenial Child / Eugene Schwartz (Grade 3)***
Form Drawing Grades 1-4 - Embery-Stine and Schuberth (Grades 1-4)*
Form Drawing - Niederhauser and Frohlich (Grades 1-5)
Inspiring Your Child's Education - David Darcy (Grades 1- 5)*
Creative Pathways - Auer (Grades 1-8)*
Will-Developed Intelligence - Mitchell (Grades 1-12)* 

German
Teach Me German
Fun with German - Cooper
Rosetta Stone
Assorted picture books

Spanish
Teach Me Spanish
Fun with Spanish - Cooper
Cante, Cante, Elefante - Naturally You Can Sing
Rosetta Stone
Assorted picture books

Steiner
Rhythms of Learning: Selected Lectures by Rudolf Steiner - Trostli (Grades K-12)*

Curriculum Guides
Millenial Child - Eugene Schwartz*
Path of Discovery - Fairman
Waldorf Without Walls - Barbara Dewey
Christopherus Publications (First Grade Syllabus; Curr. Overview)

*All of these resources have been very useful to me at one time or another, but these are my personal favorites. 

**Sometimes other homeschool blogs are the best resources.  Renee at Heirloom Seasons blog has captured this block in the most beautiful way I've seen yet.

***I cannot recommend this resource highly enough, especially for the housebuilding block.


Our Lessons and Resources
You can sift through my Grade 3 posts HERE.
For the older Gr. 3 posts, it gives you an option of clicking "older posts" at the bottom of the page.
Or if you're looking for something specific, please see the labels on my sidebar or use the search function at the top of the page.



Other places on the web
Chalkboard Drawing (images)
Waldorf Library (free e-books)
Waldorf Teacher's Gallery (images)
Waldorf Ideen Pool (images)
Baldwin Project / Main Lesson (free e-books)
Rudolf Steiner Audio
Rudolf Steiner Archive
Naturally You Can Sing (songbooks)
Waldorf Curriculum Chart (Grades 1-8)


My Favorite Unschooling Books
Learning All the Time - Holt
Homeschooling and the Voyage of Self-Discovery - Albert
Free at Last: The Sudbury Valley School - Greenberg

Sad week

We have recently suffered a great loss at our house... a deep and regretfully painful loss. I hate to be the bearer of ill tidings, but I thought you all should know.

The other day our wireless internet went out. In the middle of an email the connection died, and when I checked the "tower thingy" it was red. I messed with the plug and suddenly there was a great vibration of color, one final and glorious hurrah, and then bam. It was gone. Just like that.

It's a very sad week, and Einstein and I are working on picking up the pieces and moving forward again. We'll be conducting our own autopsy to see if we can discover the cause of death before ordering up a replacement. Until then, you will find me sitting in the driveway with a dilapidated laptop trying to access my email through my extremely kind neighbors' wireless service.

Since I am still paying my own monthly service fee, this is guilt-free mooching at it's best. Now if only I could get the connection to hold for more than a few minutes at a time, we'd be in business.

Think good thoughts.

Blog safety?!!

A friend recently pointed out to me this post over at Islamic Homeschool Diary which links to this post over at Notes from the Trenches... and concerns the issue of Blog Safety. As in, how much information have you really given out on your blog? Enough for "bad people" to find your house? Recognize you or your children on the street?

Apparently this can happen. Easily. And it has given me something to think about.

Bear with me while I take a brief pause and go through my archives to do a little safety check.